


Come Here

by lucawrites



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: And Low-Key So Is Kenma, Angst, But Kuroo Is A Simp, Domestic Bliss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kenma Is An Awesome Friend, Kuroo Cries A Bit, M/M, POV Third Person, Rough Feelings, they aren't dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27232261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucawrites/pseuds/lucawrites
Summary: “Then come here,” Kenma merely stated, looking up into Kuroo’s hazel eyes. “When you feel down, when you feel weak, when you feel like everything is too much, come here. Come to me.”-Kuroo has a shitty night again, and Kenma offers for him to come over.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 18
Kudos: 117





	Come Here

**Author's Note:**

> I made this while mainly listening to the KuroKen soundtrack on YouTube by ramona, I highly suggest you guys listen to it sometime. It gets you in your feels >< The characters are a little OOC as this is my time writing for the fandom... But anyway! Please enjoy. <3

Soft white pillows were pressed flush against Kuroo’s ears as his face squooshed into the mattress underneath him. His heart rammed up against his chest, digging into his ribs with each squeeze and pump. The faint sound of his mother crying angered Kuroo and his fists clenched around his pillows as he grew more restless. If he pushed them just a little bit closer, the screaming fell into a white silence. A silent blur of exhaustion, mindlessly dancing around piles of sorrowful realizations. Realizations Kuroo wished were instead filthy lies, not the stone-cold truth which had haunted Kuroo since he was an innocent five-year-old.

Kuroo experienced nights like this much more often than not. When he was an innocent child, these nights scared him more than anything. They made him cry and shake as he cradled two stuffed animals against his ears. He would blabber to himself, hoping and praying things would be okay. _Mommy and daddy will be okay, they love each other, and they love me,_ Kuroo used to tell himself every time a fight occurred. 

As Kuroo grew older and much more aware of the world around him, nights like these didn’t scare him. They pissed him off. He never understood why his parents were still together. The screaming and crying were conspicuous signs they weren’t meant for each other, and the empty threats of getting a divorce never helped to soften those signs either. Yet they told Kuroo they were happy, they were _in love._

What they had wasn’t love in the slightest. It was pure hatred, bitterness seeping into fury. It was loving and golden up until Kuroo was born. Kuroo was a poisoned chalice to his parents and their relationship. He knew this, and when he figured it out, he felt like a failure. But as he got older he learned to cope with the truth of it. After all, he couldn’t change it even if he tried.

Kuroo grimaced against his mattress as he heard the curtain of silence fall at the shattering sound of his mother’s favorite vase tumbling over, a loud curse shortly following it. Silence fell after that for no more than three seconds, and then they jumped right back into screaming at each other.

Kuroo wasn’t going to be getting sleep anytime soon, so he pushed his pillows off himself and turned over to face his ceiling. His ceiling fan spun around and around, the dark red panels turning into blurs against his dirty ceiling. He really needed to clean it, but that wasn’t his biggest priority.

No, his biggest priority was to grab his phone and distract himself from his parents. He quickly opened his phone to see a picture of his best friend, passed out asleep with his face in a textbook. His half dyed hair fell over his face delicately, and his eyes were sealed close gently, eyelashes casting tiny shadows over his pale cheekbones. He had on one of Kuroo’s graphic tees and dark crimson joggers. He looked so beautiful.

_He should be awake,_ Kuroo thought to himself as he entered his passcode to his phone. It unlocked and opened to his home screen, which was the same picture as his lock screen. He quickly tapped the green button of his messaging app, and it immediately opened to his conversation with Kenma. His thumbs sped across the keyboard, typing out his message.

**_Pudding Head <3_ **

_Hey, Kenma :)_

_hey Kuro_

_What are you up to right now?_

_animal crossing_

_why?_

_I kinda need a distraction is all._

_I’m sorry, I’ll go do some work or something._

_distraction..._

_parents again?_

_Yeah…_

_mm_

_how busy are they with yelling at each other?_

_...I don’t know?_

_Why?_

_you could come over if you want_

_parents are out of town_

_I don’t mind at all_

_Wait seriously?_

_mhmm_

_you seem like you could use some company_

_...I’ll get ready. :)_

Kuroo’s heart raced against his chest as he turned his phone off. He knew he could count on Kenma to cheer him up and distract him from everything. Kuroo rose from his bed, and he sauntered quietly to his closet. Pulling out a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, Kuroo got dressed to leave the house. 

Kuroo cautiously turned the doorknob, doing it so it wouldn’t creak like it normally would. He crept through the hallway, his socked feet tiptoeing across the dark wooden floors. His parents were still arguing, shouts loud and harsh. They sounded like meshed up static and a headache pulsed through Kuroo’s skull as he got closer to the sound.

Turning his head around the corner of the hallway, he saw his mother, hands in her hair in distress. She stood in the kitchen, back turned to Kuroo as she croaked at Kuroo’s father, who stood pressed to the kitchen counter. His father huffed angrily as his mother jabbed a finger at his chest, choking on her words. Kuroo sighed silently. He moved like a shadow, quiet and quick, as he slithered from the corner and into the living room. Everything was dark, and he had to squint his eyes to make out the shape of his old, torn, crimson sneakers by the door.

Carefully, Kuroo slipped into his shoes, lacing them around the back of his foot for extra security. And as quiet as a mouse, he made his way out the front door and into the silent night of the outside world. His phone buzzed against his thigh, and he dug it out of his pocket to check the text. As he opened his phone, another text came in.

**_Pudding Head <3_ **

_okay, let me know when you’re on my street_

**_Pudding Head <3_ **

_kinda don’t want you to die on me yet_

Kuroo sent in his cutest, most wholesome meme as his feet naturally began to walk on their own. His muscle memory activated as he walked through the winding streets. He passed the small volleyball court he and Kenma used to play at, and he smiled at all the fond memories.

Finally, he made it to Kenma’s street, and he sent Kenma a quick text as he walked quickly down the sidewalk. He almost stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk, but luckily he hopped and balanced himself. Kuroo continued walking until he stopped in front of the familiar, two-story house. It looked the same as ever, with its black walls and crisp white door. Small rose bushes stood in front of the house, right next to the stairs leading up to the door. And that bush was planted by eight-year-old Kuroo and seven-year-old Kenma. Kuroo couldn’t believe it was still living, vibrant as can be.

Just then the white door opened, letting out a nice golden glow to cast over the black wooden porch. Kenma stood in the doorway, his yellow and black hair tied back in a ponytail. A few loose strands graced the temples of his head in a way that still kept his vision narrow. Just how Kenma liked it.

Kuroo smiled sadly as he ambled up the stairs. He stood in front of Kenma, silently looking into his cat-like golden eyes. Kenma wordlessly leaned to the side, allowing Kuroo into the house. Kuroo stepped in and he sat on the floor, untying and tugging his shoes off. Kenma closed and locked the door and he watched Kuroo neatly stack his shoes into the small cubby.

Kuroo knew Kenma didn’t like to talk that much, so he sent the younger a soft smile. “What should we do? Movie? Video games? Oh, maybe some food? I’m kinda hungry, and I can pay.”

Kenma shook his head and he ambled to the living room, quietly sitting on the couch by himself. Kuroo followed suit and sat next to Kenma, pulling a small decorative pillow into his lap. “Okay… then what should we do?”

“Talk about it,” Kenma murmured and looked at Kuroo, reading the older boy’s bummed out expression. “I can tell you’re tense.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll be fine.” Kuroo shrugged it off and reached for the TV remote, but Kenma beat him to it. He buried the remote under a pillow and leaned against it to prevent Kuroo from stealing it back. “Hey! That’s so rude, why did you do that?”

“Quit,” Kenma paused, eyes flicking off to examine the bookshelves to his left. He licked his bottom lip in thought, “doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“That thing where you act like it’s nothing at all. Like your struggles are nothing at all.”

Kuroo was about to retort, but no words fell as he opened his mouth. He closed his mouth, and his lips drew into a tight line as he hummed in dissatisfaction. 

“Talk to me,” Kenma drew his sock-covered feet onto the couch, his toes tickling against Kuroo’s leg. Kuroo looked down to examine them, and almost chuckled as he saw a wild pattern of different calico cats thrown onto a soft grey background. “Kuro.”

“There isn’t much to talk about, really. It’s just the same shit since I was five. I swear I’m fine.” Kuroo held the pillow tighter to himself. “They just piss me off so much. Talking about… how they’re so in love, and they brag to their friends about how amazing their love life is. How they’ve been married for two decades and everything still feels as fresh and dandy as they were in high school. Fucking bullshit…” Kuroo sighed and shook his head. “They lie to everyone, and come home and scream so loud, my head pulsates.”

Kenma nodded softly, coaxing Kuroo to continue. When the older didn’t say anything new, Kenma wiggled his toes against Kuroo’s leg. “I understand. Have you talked to them?”

Kuroo shook his head. “Last time I did, they ended up screaming at each other right in front of me. It was pretty bad. They need therapy.”

“...Maybe a snicker could help.”

Kuroo looked at Kenma and he forced back a laugh, a smile creeping up onto his face. “Give them a lifetime supply of snicker bars. Actually, could that work? Pull out your phone and look it up, I bet we could do it. Might have to enter a contest but then we would have snicker bars, and who doesn’t like snicker bars? Absolute fucking demons that will rot in-”

“Kuro, no.” Kenma immediately shot down Kuroo’s idea, causing the boy to pout.

“Awe come on, please? Pretty please?”

“No.”

“But-”

“Stop getting off-topic.”

Kuroo frowned as Kenma had seen right through what he was trying to do. Ever since Kuroo was younger, he grew a bit of a barrier between himself and others. As captain, everyone relied heavily on him, and some even idolized him. While it was amazing, the feeling of being needed and admired, it also carried the hardship of always being perfectly okay.

Kuroo wasn’t perfectly okay. Only Kenma could figure that out though.

The older boy sighed and he turned to face Kenma, bringing his feet up onto the couch. He idly messed with Kenma’s feet as he lost himself in thought. “I hate being relied on sometimes.”

“Hm?”

Kuroo leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his knees and resting his chin against them. “When you’re relied on, you have to always be perfectly okay. You can’t be weak. You have to always be happy and positive. But sometimes I can’t do that, sometimes I can’t be positive and I can’t be jovial. I’m not the sun, I don’t shine golden rays twenty-four-fucking-seven. Yet everyone expects me to. I don’t like it.”

“Then come here,” Kenma merely stated, looking up into Kuroo’s hazel eyes. “When you feel down, when you feel weak, when you feel like everything is too much, come here. Come to me.”

Kuroo’s eyes began to sting just a little as he blinked up at Kenma. He grabbed Kenma’s legs and moved them to slot himself between them. He scooted close, turning to lay down between Kenma’s thighs. He rested on his side, face pressed right near Kenma’s pelvic bone. Kenma sputtered slightly, mumbling a soft question as to what Kuroo was doing, but Kuroo didn’t answer as he snuggled closer to Kenma, feeling his eyes begin to burn even more.

Kenma’s fingers danced through Kuroo’s dark hair, messing up the messy strands even more. Kuroo’s tears slowly slipped from between his rows of lashes. They trailed down his smooth cheek until they dripped onto Kenma’s sweatpants, dampening the light grey fabric.

“Let it out,” Kenma whispered softly, his hands moving on their own. They worked through the older boy’s hair, blunt nails gently scraping against his scalp. His other hand worked circles into his arm, trailing down it until Kenma found Kuroo’s hand. He unwrapped it from his thigh and entwined their fingers. He rubbed his thumb into Kuroo’s hand, drawing soft circles.

Kuroo continued to weep, feeling great amounts of warmth flush through his entire body. Being in Kenma’s embrace made him feel so safe and cared for, and he knew he didn’t want to leave. His heart was thrumming against his chest as he snuggled closer to Kenma. Kenma wordlessly comforted Kuroo through all of his tears. He held Kuroo closer to himself, fingers tracing shapes into his scalp. 

Gradually Kuroo began to calm down, his breathing slowed down and his tears ceased to fall from his tired eyes. Tear trails stained his skin as he blinked lazily, admiring the different texture of cotton on Kenma’s sweatpants.

“Kuro, are you okay?” Kenma asked quietly, petting Kuroo still as he looked at how exhausted his best friend looked. Not only was he exhausted physically but mentally too. 

Kuroo flipped over onto his back, Kenma’s thighs squishing against the sides of his head. “Yeah, sorry. I probably shouldn’t have cried like that. Wasn’t very cool of me, eh?”

“Don’t say that.”

Kuroo smiled sadly and nodded. “Got it… Uh anyways, shall we move on to something else?”

Kenma nodded and he brushed his thumb slowly over Kuroo’s cheek. “Do you need anything? Water? Snacks?”

Kuroo nodded his head, sniffling as he rubbed his palm over his nose. He grimaced at the sight of snot decorating the bottom of his palm and his wrist. “Gross,” he murmured.

Kenma carefully pulled his legs out from the sides of Kuroo’s face, and he settled his feet on the floor. Kuroo whined at the loss of heat as Kenma stood up. As Kenma ambled over to the kitchen, Kuroo sat up and looked around for tissues. He found a small pink box and plucked a tissue out from the plastic seam. He rubbed the disgusting snot into the soft tissue before folding it, holding it up to his nose to let out a few blows.

Kuroo felt so pathetic. He didn’t like to cry in front of people, and the shame bubbled right in his gut. He knew it was just Kenma, his best friend since primary school. Kenma would never judge Kuroo for letting out his emotions. Yet the guilt still coated his intestines, crawling up the inner linings of his gut and into his lungs, slowly seeping into his heart. Would Kenma think he was weak? Would he be grossed out with how Kuroo was laying on him? Would he rat him out to the team, exposing how their captain was actually a fucking wuss, still scared of his parents fighting?

Was he still scared? If he was, then why? It wasn’t like his parents really even cared about each other anyway.

Kuroo let out a sigh as he heard Kenma make his way back to him. He was carrying a tray of two small bowls of clear onion soup and some bottles of water. “Here,” he whispered, setting the tray down on the coffee table in front of them. Kuroo leaned forward and began eating the soup immediately. “It isn’t as good as mom’s cause I ordered it for dinner yesterday. But it should help.”

“It’s delicious,” Kuroo replied, blowing over his spoonful of soup before slipping it into his mouth. It helped to bring him back to life. He felt a bit like a zombie slowly being turned into a human again. 

They ate and drank their waters in silence. A silence that wasn’t as deafening as Kuroo’s parents pausing in a fight. Rather it was comforting, something which only Kenma could bring. With other people, the silence was restless and uncomfortable, but with Kenma it was peaceful. 

Once the boys were full of soup and water, Kuroo stood up and took the dishes to the kitchen for cleaning. As he rinsed off each bowl and spoon, Kenma snuck up to his bedroom. He walked back into the living room after a few minutes, holding two switch consoles in his hand. Kuroo smiled at Kenma as he was handed the black and red switch, the one that was all his. He bought it when Kenma got his switch, and he kept it at Kenma’s house since that was the only place he played it.

The two strode out of the kitchen, taking a left turn and marching up the staircase. Kenma trailed behind Kuroo as the older boy made his way to Kenma’s bedroom. It was the same as it was even when they were kids, yet it was more mature. White desk pushed to the corner with stacks of practically abandoned textbooks settled atop. Kenma was never one to study, as some of his books were from previous years. Kuroo recognized the cover of one to be a biology book from his first year. Besides the books and occasional pencil or pen, the desk was very clean and empty. 

Above the desk hung an array of pictures, some being drawings Kenma made, others being game characters. There was one polaroid picture of Kuroo in the middle of it all. Kuroo recognized it being from the past summer, his Nekoma jersey clung tightly to his body as his hair was a damp mess in his right eye. He had his towel slung over his right shoulder, and he was staring intently into nothingness as his hand cupped the side of his face. Kenma took it as a souvenir of their training together, but Kuroo hoped Kenma just took it because he thought he looked good.

Kenma walked over to his bed and flopped down on the messy red and white sheets. Atop all of the red and white matching pillows was a small, calico plush toy Kuroo had won Kenma at a carnival they went to months ago. Kuroo joined Kenma on his bed careful to make himself fit right against the wall without knocking off any pillows. Kenma lay beside him on his left side, hands holding a switch as he pressed slightly up against Kuroo’s body. Kuroo further settled into the bed, his hands reaching to Kenma’s switch. He pushed it further away from Kenma’s face.

“Don’t hold it so close to your eyes, it’ll make them sore.”

Kenma huffed quietly, but a tinge of pink brushed his cheek. Or Kuroo thought so anyway, he couldn’t really make it out in the dim lighting. Kuroo’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure it out, but the sickeningly cute music from Animal Crossing disrupted his train of thought.

At first, Kuroo contemplated playing alongside Kenma, but he instead decided to self indulge for a bit. He turned onto his side, facing Kenma and training his eyes on the screen in front of him. And as slow and soft as he could manage, he delicately lay his head on Kenma’s pillow, his chest resting right against the younger boy’s shoulder. He couldn’t see the screen that well as the hair in his eyes blocked most of his view, but he didn’t care. His nose was filled with the scent of honey and nutmeg, the smell of Kenma.

Kuroo smiled and felt himself snuggling further into Kenma. The music became background noise as a gentle thunderstorm began to pour through the city. Kenma’s breathing picked up as he felt Kuroo’s slim nose tickle against his neck. “You good?”

“‘M perfect,” Kuroo murmured, throwing his arm across Kenma’s chest, hand wrapping around his bicep.

“Okay,” the younger boy whispered, continuing to game. Kuroo smiled softly as he closed his eyes.

Kuroo never got to cuddle Kenma that much as Kenma wasn’t always the most affectionate. Or he wasn’t in front of anyone else. In front of Kuroo, he could be very affectionate and soft. He liked to be coddled. Kuroo would never be able to describe how hard his heart would ram against his chest at each and every single one of Kenma’s slices of affection. So he instead decided to keep quiet.

Truth be told, Kuroo was infatuated with Kenma. He had liked the cat-like, game-loving setter since junior high. Kuroo would never be able to openly express it though, so he instead opted to be as obvious as he could with his actions. Kenma still hadn’t pointed it out or asked about why Kuroo was attached to him so much. There was no way he didn’t know, though, as Kenma was more observant than anybody else.

Kenma should’ve been able to tell how much Kuroo admired him, as he was the light that kept Kuroo pushing to fight life and never give up.

He would have to tell Kenma eventually, but he instead opted to continue snuggling into Kenma. It was no earlier than four in the morning, and Kuroo felt sleepiness crash into his body full-force like a dozen waves. Kuroo removed his arm from Kenma, blindly reaching for the fluffy blanket next to him. He pulled it to cover both of them, and he tangled his legs with Kenma’s. Returning his arm against Kenma’s chest, Kuroo could feel just how hard Kenma’s heart was beating. He let himself chuckle before further snuggling into Kenma, lips dancing near his neck. 

Kuroo lay, completely placid, body slumped against Kenma’s and clinging to him like a koala. Eventually, Kenma turned his switch off and tucked it right under his pillow before turning to face Kuroo. He tucked Kuroo’s head under his chin and delicately closed his eyes, listening to the quiet rasps of Kuroo and the quiet tap dancing of the rain outside. 

Kenma’s hands carded through Kuroo’s hair, murmuring softly against the black strands. “I hope you know you can always come here,” he started quietly, a smile threatening to pull on his lips. He relaxed further into Kuroo, “because I’m not going anywhere, okay? When you’re going through things, come here, come to me, and I’ll hold you until it all feels better.”

Kuroo hummed and he pressed a dangerous kiss to Kenma’s neck. “Thank you,” he whispered softly, falling into the arms of slumber, his arms wrapped around Kenma and legs intertwined with his. Kenma blushed, murmuring a soft _mhm_ as he fell asleep against Kuroo.

**Author's Note:**

> How was it? Did you like it? Hate it? Please let me know in the comments! Thank you so much for reading, and always, please make sure to take care of yourselves! <3


End file.
